The Only Thing He Ever Swore
by etherealfire
Summary: Only once did Dracula make a pact with God, once in his entire existence, for there was only one that he ever loved. One with the power to redeem his soul for all eternity…
1. Irises

Hi everyone! I've read over a bunch of the Van Helsing fanfic and I LOVE!!!!!! it, so I thought I'd explain a few things...(1) why Dracula is so obsessed with bringing children to life even after two of his brides die, (2) why he has no emotions, and (3)explaining the deep, bitter hatred that he has in his eyes when he says "We have such...history, you and I, Gabriel." (It couldn't be _completel_y because Van Helsing murdered him; Dracula wouldn't hold a grudge against someone whose actions gave him immortality and basically unlimited power, would he? I don't think so, anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except Tatiana, Eleanor Anna, Elisabet, and various other "small" characters...but you knew that already cheeky grin

So yeah...that's about it. Enjoy. And please review!!!!!!!!! (donations will be accepted as well...jk)

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The wind blew the smoke over the sea as Gabriel Van Helsing stood staring up into the clouds. His beloved was dead. Anna was no more, and he had killed her. _No_, he thought. _Not I. HE did it with his damn beasts. HE killed her before I—no, the werewolf—did. HE made her brother into what she had hunted for so long, took her father, took her mother, took everything from her. I did what I could, I swore to protect her. We saved her family. But I cannot go on without her, God, I cannot. When have I ever failed you? When have I ever done anything but Thy Will?_ The last was a mental scream. 

Van Helsing felt something like peaceful anger steal over him, if such a thing were possible. He found himself retreating into his mind, and a shimmering, fragile piece of memory rose to the surface. In his mind's eye, he stepped into the memory, both because of the desire to grasp even a tiny bit of his past and because he felt compelled to do so.

_The grass on the mountainside rippled gently in the spring breeze. A gravestone stood before him, faded by time until the letters could no longer be read. This was where the path ended. The ground was worn before it, and there was a small clump of flowers, wilted irises, that were laid lovingly at its base. A sense of unmistakable anguish surrounded the beautiful scene. _

Confused, he opened his eyes. The sense of anger was gone, but the peace remained. _This, my son, is why Anna was taken. _

"What?"

Carl turned to look at him oddly. "I didn't say anything, Van Helsing."

Gabriel looked at him distractedly. "Wha-? Oh, no, of course not."

He turned slowly and looked into the flames. Anna—he could not bear to look at her, to watch her burning slowly into ash that he would bury in Rome, where the holiest were laid to rest forever. A rest that he would never have. The Left Hand of God. Maybe it was better that he had lost his memory.

He wondered if there had ever been another like Anna. _After all, Gabriel,_ he heard a mocking voice in his head say, _you've been alive…or what passes for it…since the dawn of man. A pretty wench here, a queen there, do you even remember them? What do you possibly know of love?_

Gabriel clenched his fist. Even his inner conscience had HIS voice, mocking him in heavily accented tones. _There was no other, Dracula._ He knew, of course, that Dracula was dead, but Gabriel's thoughts were so close to something HE would say that they sounded as if he had, indeed, said them.

A sickening thought struck Van Helsing. What if Dracula _had_ said the words, in that enraged tone, which sounded so familiar? No, for they had a ring of grief to them, and Dracula had never felt grief. Perhaps when his brides had been destroyed, but it was probably only anger that he no longer had such loyal ones to do his bidding. HE had never loved them, Van Helsing was sure. In fact, he was sure that HE had never loved anyone, not even his own mother.

There was a sighing sound from behind him, and he turned quickly to see something that was probably a spark rising from the pyre. He turned away just as quickly as a new wave of grief tumbled over him.

A beam of sunlight struck his face, and he blinked. It was almost luminescent in its brightness, and felt so warm and wonderful that he imagined that he was kissing Anna again. The sunlight faded as he closed his eyes, and he snapped them open in time to see a cloud shifting to reveal a radiance that was not of this world.

There was a giant open space in the clouds, and shapes were beginning to form. He stared as he recognized Velkan and Boris Valerious. They smiled, then stepped aside as Anna's face filled the sky.

Van Helsing looked up, eyes shining. _I love you,_ he wanted to cry out, but he kept it in his heart. She smiled, and he knew she had heard. "Thank you," she whispered, before she took her brother's arm and entered Heaven in a blaze of glory.

Van Helsing turned slowly as the clouds parted and the sun came out. Anna was gone, ashes filtering softly over the stone. He quickly gathered her ashes in a special container, then sealed it tightly, pressing his lips to it and damning Dracula at the same time. _Why, God?_ he asked again silently, eyes threatening to spill over.

The heavens were silent. The only answer he got was a haunting mental picture of a gravestone and a clump of irises.

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Read on, Macduff! (sorry that was random)...neway... 


	2. In the light of the moon

So...what think you?

Reader: "..."

That blank space means please please please review! :) wowzer I love to write...did I just say _wowzer_? maybe the late nights are getting to me... well keep reading and tell me what you think! thanx much

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There was a ragged veil of clouds, shimmering beneath the startling blue-whiteness of the moon. Tatiana tilted her head to the night sky, the shadows catching the beauty of her features and pooling in the hollow of her throat where exquisite skin stretched softly over bone. She sighed, an unconscious action, and for an instant, a line appeared between eyes whose golden flecks caught the faint candlelight. The single flame wavered for a moment, then continued to burn with its tiny intensity. Her gaze did not change. One hand moved for a moment, then slipped silently back to the bench. 

Out here under the stars, the laughter and the music of the party still pervaded the air as they floated through the halls. Good. She had not been missed by her father's friend, Lord Durath. Not yet, anyway. The fool was seeking her hand in marriage, but for the moment her father was still looking for richer suitors.

Tatiana went to the balcony and stood looking out over the silver-gray of the moonlight on the forests. The far eastern region of Romania was so beautiful on nights such as this; it was for this reason that her father had purchased an old castle here as their summer home. That, and to keep his only daughter from the debauchery of life in the city. She smiled sadly. Her cousin Elisabet had met and married a man of high rank in the city; he had left her after the blond couple's first child, a beautiful baby girl with hair and eyes like the night, was born, claiming that she was another man's child. To be branded with illegitimacy at birth would forever mar little Verona.

Perhaps they would not miss her if she went down into the gardens. She needed to think, and the cool night air, combined with the scent of pine, would be wonderful.

Gathering her skirts, Tatiana carefully descended the narrow, winding stair that led to the gardens below. They went all the way to the edge of the cliff, so one could stand at the rail and peer into the depths of the ravines below, and extended for quite a ways in all directions, much bigger than her grandfather's private park-forest. She had been surprised, in fact, at their size when her father had brought her here.

She made her way along the path that she knew led to the rail and the edge of the cliff. At the railing was a small clearing with a bench, and she sat down carefully, knowing that any smudges on her gown would be cause for suspicion. She was already taking a risk by leaving the party unattended, something young women did not do to begin with, but the risk was doubled by the fact that this was the infamous land of Transylvania. Her brother Friedrich had warned her not to go anywhere at night in Romania if she did not have someone with her; however, he had been rather vague as to why, muttering something about her "delicate constitution" and other such nonsense. She was also sure that she had heard something about wolves. For comfort she touched the glittering necklace, a choker made of long strands of emeralds, that her mother had given her years ago.

It was the necklace that gave away her position.

As she was admiring the beauty of the silvery-white moon, Tatiana noticed something moving at the edge of the sky. She squinted to make out what it was, and froze in terror.

A huge, winged shape, like a monstrous bat, winged its way across the moon at an unbelievable speed, growing larger every second. Tatiana bit her lip to keep herself from screaming, looked around frantically, then darted up the path toward the stairs and safety.

Before she had gone twenty feet, she saw the thing—beast, demon, whatever it was—land somewhere ahead of her with barely any sound. She turned and ran the way she had come, hands frozen with fear, adrenaline rushing through her, imagining it moving on catlike feet through the undergrowth toward her even faster than she had seen it flying.

She couldn't go all the way to the railing; it was open there and the thing would see her. Instead, Tatiana ran down another path to a nearby cluster of trees that had often been a favorite reading place in the past. Kicking off her dancing shoes, she put her foot in the familiar hole and was beginning to climb into its center when something grabbed her arm and pulled backwards with inhuman strength.

Tatiana desperately yanked her arm free without daring to look at her attacker and took off into the middle of the forest-garden as fast as possible, knowing that she could never outrun the winged creature she had seen. A few seconds later, she was shoved roughly to the ground, face-first, her skirt tearing loudly as her foot caught on it.

She shrieked as something clutched at her hair, knocking the pin out of it, and instinctively rolled over to protect her head. _It want my throat_, she thought, and lashed out with both hands. Her wrists were immediately seized and shoved to either side, and she looked up, terrified.

Dracula froze, hands numb on his would-be victim's wrists as he stared down into the most terrifyingly beautiful face he had ever seen. The moonlight added a silver glow to the young woman's features, and her eyes…he could not look away. They were emerald green, with tiny flecks of gold, and, opened wide with fear as they were, they shot through him with the combined force of ice and fire. He felt his breath catch, his gaze traveling over her flushed skin and loosened tresses, waves of tawny golden auburn. He forgot that he had not fed in far too long or that he was unlikely to find another victim soon; he forgot everything save what he saw before him.

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This is the last chapter until someone reviews, hopefully more than one person (grrr...will hold story for ransom until at least 5 people review, and NOT stuff like "there, I reviewed, now WRITE!"...twitches...)heehee I want actual feedback please! 


	3. Nothing is as it seems

Heehee...I decided to write even though I only got FOUR reviews...

...(waiting)...

Yeah, anyway, I couldn't wait to put the next chapter up, I'm so glad you guys like it:) Have fun...grins

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Tatiana could not move. A moment ago she had been fighting for her life; now she found herself flat on her back looking up into the face of an unbelievably handsome, sharp-featured man, a stranger with long dark hair pulled back with a silver clip and equally dark eyes that stared down at her with something akin to shocked wonder. "Who…who are you?" she gasped out, chest heaving from exertion and fright. 

The stranger blinked as if remembering where he was, and smiled suddenly. It lit up his entire face, and Tatiana realized even more acutely how very handsome he was. Devilishly handsome, almost—he even had a small earring like the pirates she had read about, and a few strands of dark hair framed his face. She found herself being helped to her feet, and her face went red as she saw the damage that the fall had done to her dress. "What happened?" she asked. Why had she fallen? Who was this man? She could not remember. It was as if her brain were in a fog.

He was saying something. "I'm sorry?" Tatiana said, looking straight into his eyes. They jolted her like an electric shock.

"Are you all well? That was quite the fall, Miss…"

"Tatiana."

"Tatiana," he said softly. He had a strong accent that sounded like the Romanians she had met, but…different. "How fitting that it should be so beautiful."

Tatiana smiled, feeling her face growing pink again. Normally she was not one for compliments—she had learned from Elisabet's experience—but this man's voice was…mesmerizing. Like his eyes. 'What name may I call you by, sir?" She knew that her voice sounded strange, but could not well control it while she was looking at him.

He frowned. "How thoughtless of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Vladislaus Dracula." He pronounced the last "Dragulya" and bowed, taking Tatiana's hand and pressing his lips to it. Something like fire rushed through his empty veins, and he almost jerked away in shock—vampires were not supposed to feel anything. Instead, he slowly, deliberately looked up into her eyes, which told him instantly that she had felt the same thing.

"Count Dracula. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Tatiana felt as if she were in a dream.

He had not let go of her hand, and reluctantly released it. "Please, call me Dracula. 'Count' sounds so…formal. As we should not be."

Once again, she vaguely wondered why they were here, in the midst of the garden. "What will Father say? About my dress, I mean."

He was taller than Tatiana, and she had to tilt her face up to look at him. "You were frightened, milady. It's not uncommon to…see things at night in this part of Romania."

"See things?" Tatiana frowned, then she gasped and clutched Dracula's arm as the memory of the creature flooded over her. "Oh, my God!"

Dracula's face twitched almost unnoticeably, and he covered it with a look of concern that astonished him, for it was genuine. "What is wrong?"

Tatiana began to shake. "A monstrous, winged creature…it is in the garden. I saw it!" She looked up at her rescuer. "You must help me! It is coming for me!"

Dracula pulled her into his arms, careful not to let her notice that he had no heartbeat. She buried her face in his shoulder, almost shivering, and her murmured into her hair. "It was nothing, milady, a mere trick of the eyes. You should not believe everything you see in this country, for nothing is as it seems." He laughed softly. "My manservant thought he saw a werewolf last week. The fool. Even if such things existed, it was the new moon. Do you think it is a coincidence that one of the villagers has several large wolfhounds that he lets roam the forests in search of game?"

Tatiana's face was very close to his, and again he felt his breath catch as she smiled tremulously, eyes lit with hidden laughter. "Perhaps," she breathed, "it was nothing more than one of the giant mountain eagles that Father tells me about. An overstuffed goose!" She laughed at the notion. Dracula noticed that, far from relaxing, his breathing had become more handicapped. If she looked into his eyes one moment longer…

Without warning, Dracula tilted her chin up and set his mouth against hers, hard. His kiss was so passionate that Tatiana felt her bones would melt. She was shocked, but did not resist; instead, she put her arms around his neck, her fingers brushing his ponytail as it slipped forward. The unexpectedness of it all was so overwhelming that for a few moments the only thing she was aware of was the slow burning sensation of his mouth on hers.

Abruptly she pulled away, eyes downcast and a red flush creeping into her cheeks. "This is unseemly, sir. I thank you for helping me, but I must go now."

"Please." She looked back up into Dracula's eyes. "Allow me to escort you and explain your…appearance. It is only proper of a gentleman." He smiled disarmingly, and Tatiana nodded assent, head still whirling from his unbelievable kiss.

They walked arm-in-arm to the terrace stairs, climbed them, and crossed the balcony to the house. A maidservant was hurrying down the corridor toward them. "Mistress Tatiana!" she cried. "Where have you been?" She looked at Dracula, and her expression became a curious mixture of astonishment and indignation. "And who is this gentleman?"

Tatiana smiled up at her escort. "Peace, Brunhilde. This is Count Vladislaus Dracula, one of my father's guests." She assumed this was the case, and he did not react otherwise, inclining his head ceremoniously to the maid.

Brunhilde squinted at Dracula. "Is he, now?" Then she smiled. "Ah! I remember. You came with the Prescott party, no?"

Dracula smiled noncommittally. Brunhilde took that as a yes and hustled her charge off down the hall, calling back, "The guests are still in the ballroom, Your Lordship."

At the end of the night, Dracula had shared seven dances with the castle's beautiful heiress, now in a deep wine-crimson dress that made her eyes even more brilliant, if that were possible. He was reluctant to leave the ballroom for any amount of time, save one trip that resulted form the fact that if he did not feed very, very soon, he would not survive the night. Upon his return, he saw that an older man—for all practical purposes, twenty years Dracula's senior—was dancing with a disgusted-looking Tatiana. He felt a strong emotion that he identified with some surprise as anger. Two emotions in one night, or was it three? He could not remember. How dare that man dance with her, and why did Dracula care in the least?

When he left, he kissed her hand and looked deeply into her eyes, realizing that he was afraid to say what he so badly wanted to, and finally blurting, "May I…I mean…might I call on you, milady?"

Tatiana's eyes lit up. "Yes," she said softly, and when her father was out of hearing, she added, "And please, _Dracula_, call me Tatiana."

He gave her his devil's grin and vanished into the night.

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Review, review! heehee or I won't tell ya what happens next... 


	4. The only thing he ever swore

Thanks much for the reviews y'all! :) It's nice to have feedback and I LOVE to write so I hope you'll continue to like it...reaches for cookie jar in case opposite happens lol

Charlie Quill: Glad you like it, I really like your writing and haha neither of us have worked on our blogs since I don't know how long...oh well it's a writer's life I guess (omg finals are FINALLY over...wait, pun not intended...yup)

Knnyphph: Thanks a bunch for the"constructive criticism" (where did they ever come upwith that word? It's like "brainstorm"...lol) Anyway, I'm glad that you like the story despite all the melodrama (although I must argue: how can it NOT be melodramatic with Anna dying and Tatiana being attacked/saved/kissed/etc. by Dracula? Sorry, just had to play Devil's Advocate there, pun kind of intended...ahem) It will be a tad less melodramatic for a while, I think...(key word(s): _for a while_).

Countess Keira, SilverFlover, Luthien Anwamane, Firbereth, Katrin Van Helsing, and all other reviewers: thanks a bunch and I hope you like what's next!

munches on cookies having given in to temptation

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Count Vladislaus Dracula's wedding day was the only time in his entire existence as a vampire that he swore anything before God, and he thought perhaps that he would be forgiven at last and allowed to live out his life with his beloved.

Tatiana was so beautiful in her white gown that he could not take his gaze from her. Her auburn hair had been let down completely, and purple irises were intertwined in it. Her green eyes were shining as her father led her down the "aisle": they were married in a beautiful forest grove, as there was no church for miles around.

The village leader stood between them and joined their hands. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two in holy matrimony…"

Dracula smiled down at his bride. As he looked into her eyes, he silently called to God, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Give me life, God, grant me mortality and emotion. I ask not, nor hope, for my soul, for it is gone and cannot return, but I ask you, Father—nay, I beg you—give me these things and I will do anything that You ask, even unto death."

No one but Dracula felt the blinding presence of God in the heavens above as He answered.

_You must never again kill, Vladislaus Dracula. Death is no longer yours to command, though it will one day claim you. Your soul does not belong to Him of the Underworld, Vladislaus. It can yet be reclaimed. But if you should break this covenant, nothing will save you from the flames of Hell._ Dracula agreed in silence, just as the village leader asked him, "Will you, Count Dracula, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, to protect and cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"

When he said "I will," Dracula felt that a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt free for the first time in many, many years as he kissed his bride, even enjoying the weak sunlight that filtered through the clouds above.

They arrived at his country summer palace near Budapest that night, just as the sun was going down. Dracula realized that he felt happy just looking at the beautiful fields and the orange light filtering through the trees. It was the first time that he had felt emotion about anything save for Tatiana, and that emotion was stronger than ever. In fact…Dracula's eyes lit up, and he laughed in disbelief. God, in whom Dracula had never held any kind of faith (unsurprising, perhaps, when one viewed the story of his life), had kept the covenant. On an impulse, he reached out when Tatiana was not looking and scratched his arm against the metal of the carriage door. It bled, more so than was normal for a vampire, and he stared at it. One second…two seconds…he had had larger wounds heal within five seconds. He thought he felt his heart moving inside his chest as well.

Ten seconds later, his arm was still bleeding, to Tatiana's dismay, but he, through his grimacing—he had cut it harder than he had meant to, and it _hurt_—was ecstatic. He was mortal! He would live the rest of his days with his bride and, when he died, it would be by her side, a true human being at last.

They disembarked from the carriage and waited as the porters took their bags and left them standing outside on the front veranda, which faced west. As they watched the sun sink slowly below the fields in an orb of burning gold, Dracula took his bride into his arms. She reached up and smoothed the strands of dark hair away from his eyes as he looked into hers, then melted against him as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

Dracula pulled back for a moment, then set his mouth against hers like he had that night in the garden. He could feel her arms around his neck go limp as he trailed his mouth slowly down her throat. Still kissing her, he scooped her into his arms and carried her over the threshold of her new home.

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If it's not completely obvious by now, I LOVE Dracula!!!!!! 


	5. New beginnings

Hey all! So now Dracula (or Vladislaus or whatever you want to call him)is mortal and he is married to the woman of his dreams...lol...I will be posting my Paint Shop image of this story AFTER it is completed (the story not the picture), I'll give the website at the end of the last chapter. yay! i was bored and made a picture that represents this story i think it's pretty cool lol g2g, read and enjoy!

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"You're going to be a father, Vladislaus."

Dracula put down the quill and turned slowly, one hand on the back of his chair. "What?"

Tatiana's face was radiant. "I am with child."

Dracula stood and looked at his wife for a long moment, disbelievingly.

She was…glowing. Not glowing as with an aura, but her skin was flushed and her eyes were lit from within. One hand was unconsciously resting against her stomach, where, Dracula realized, the baby was. His baby.

Dracula felt like a million suns had been lit all at once as a smile began, reaching his eyes and erupting into joyous laughter. He took Tatiana's hands in his, then abandoned that and took her in his arms as he kissed her.

Tatiana emerged quite rumpled from his arms. "My lord!" she protested, smiling. "I will never get used to your ways nor your kisses."

Dracula flashed her a devilish grin. "That is the point, my darling bride."

He lifted her off her feet and carried her into their bedroom, where he laid her down carefully and knelt by her side, ear to her stomach.

Tatiana ran her fingers through his ponytail. "Whatever are you doing, Vladislaus?"

He glanced up at her, then leaned over and kissed her mouth softly "How long?" he asked.

"A month." She smiled. "I was not certain before today."

"The Lord is forgiving indeed," murmured Dracula. Tatiana evidently did not hear him, for she sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. "Come on, let's have lunch," she said. "I'm very hungry."

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read and review!!!!!

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	6. Countess Valerious

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven't updated sooner...lol I've been SOOOO busy with school. I LOVE weekends!!!!! :p

Countess Paro: this story is set about a century after Dracula became...Dracula. (if no one noticed--I HOPE you all did--Tatiana's second cousin, Elisabet's daughter, is named Verona and that's not a coincidence, it's actually the Bride. So this story is set about 30 years before Dracula meets and turns/marries/whatever Verona). I hope that helped! :D

Charlie Quill: yes, I enjoy keeping you all in a state of suspense with my short chapters...lol no jk this is the last short one for a while, I will post the next one probably tomorrow...evil grin...PROBABLY...

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Even when he had been alive, Dracula had never felt as wonderful as now. He remembered his life as full of dark things: anger with his strict father, who would not allow him to marry a Gypsy princess with no dowry (which he now thanked the old man for in his heart); the superstitions of the villagers; war with the neighboring countries; and a man called Gabriel Van Helsing, who had gained his not-lightly-given trust and then betrayed him to his death in the name of the God that Dracula had renounced long ago but now reaffirmed his faith in. 

Now, Dracula was alive again, married to the most beautiful, wonderful woman he could have ever dreamed of, and about to become a father. He was amazed at God's capacity for mercy, and vowed that he would never let go of this, no matter what the cost.

In the evenings, Vladislaus and Tatiana Dracula would sit by the fire, Tatiana in her husband's arms as they both caressed the tiny life that grew inside her. If it was a girl, Tatiana wanted to name her after her grandmothers. Dracula found that he did not remember his mother's name. He vaguely remembered a pair of dark blue eyes in a swarthy face, and it came to him that she had been a Gypsy just like Estella, the woman who had caused such grief to him during his life. What had his mother's name been? Oh, yes, he remembered now. The same that had been given to his little sister. Had he really had a little sister? Yes, a slip of a thing with his same dark eyes and hair, but a sweet smile. "Anna," he said softly. "We will call her Eleanor Anna."

"And if it is a son?" Tatiana smiled up at him, and he kissed her forehead.

"We shall see."

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Okay everyone, here's the link for my picture for this story (I'll post it in the next chapter as well, and at the end...perhaps every chapter...muahahahaha no jk):

www . geocities . com / peter (underscore) pan (underscore) 05 / myart . html

(it wouldn't let me write the link any other way, I hope I'm allowed to put links...I don't see why not but someone tell me please if I'm not supposed to)

Hope you guys enjoy it, and enjoy my other art too! I command you...lol have fun!

Oh, by the way, I rewatched Van Helsing and I found a bunch of instances where he looked like he was thinking about Tatiana (or at least the look didn't really fit that well with the movie)...yeah lol I do consider her to be a "real" person because like I said in fanfiction I try my best to make the story fit seamlessly with the movie and to explain odd things in the movie. So remind me and I will post those along with my picture (of the story) and another story that tells WHY Dracula was murdered in the first place (we never learn why, and by the way the story fits actual history into the Van Helsing story, it makes Van Helsing "real") (as if we don't all consider it real in the first place...lol) Enjoy!


	7. Devil's spawn

For those of you who complained about my...humph...short chapters...lol just kidding...here is a much longer one for you. Review por favor :p And check out the picture I made! (see bottom of previous chapter)

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One night when Tatiana was nearly seven months pregnant, they were just sitting down to dinner when the door burst open and the serving-man was shoved into the room before three men in peasant clothing. 

Dracula got to his feet smoothly, with deadly grace, though he no longer possessed his lethal powers.

"May I help you, gentlemen?"

"You," said the first man, pointing to Dracula. "We've got business wit' you." His eyes were wide and fearful beneath his reddish hair, but he spoke with purpose. The other two were dark-haired and looked to be brothers. Dracula was sure he had seen them somewhere before.

"Very well. Tatiana, you may go, please."

One of the brothers glanced up at Tatiana as if noticing her for the first time. His eyes widened in shock as she stood, and he cried, "Spawn of the Devil!" Ignoring Dracula completely, he unsheathed a long dagger and ran towards her. Tatiana shrieked.

Dracula watched in horrified slow motion as the peasant ran at his beloved wife, screaming about "Devil's spawn." Tatiana was screaming as she turned to protect her stomach and received a slice across the side instead. Dracula moved faster than he had believed a mortal could move, grabbing the knife from the man and sending him to the floor with it in his back.

The room went so still that Dracula could hear his own heart beating in his ears, obviously not a sound he was used to; in fact, he looked about for a moment before realizing what it was. Tatiana stood looking down at the widening pool of blood at her feet, paralyzed with horror; she seemed not to notice that she had been wounded as well. The other two men were frozen in place, unable to comprehend the sudden death of their companion. Finally, looking as if they expected to be killed instantly, they stepped forward, picked up their companion, and half-dragged, half-carried him out the door. Just before they shut the door, the redhead glared back at Dracula with a look of hate that the latter knew only too well, then glanced from the knife on the floor back to the Count. It was just as well, thought Dracula, that they didn't know he was now mortal.

There was a soft sound behind him. Dracula turned and watched as Tatiana sank to the floor in a dead faint.

He went swiftly to her side and cradled her in his arms. "Wake up, my darling. All is well." Dracula cursed as he saw the cut in her side, which fortunately was neither deep nor close to the baby.

She moaned and her eyes fluttered open. "Vladislaus?" She was breathing far too fast. He frowned and examined the blood, tasted it. He spat it out. Poison! They had poisoned the blade! The fools. That knife had been meant for him, and for a long moment he wished that he were immortal again so that he could have the satisfaction of seeing their incomprehension when their poison failed to work on him. However, they had chosen it well—a very small amount would kill a man. He prayed that Tatiana had not received enough of the poison to be fatal.

She was still breathing quickly. Suddenly she turned and vomited on the floor, away from him. She sobbed hysterically for several minutes before finally sinking into a stupor that he could not wake her from.

Vladislaus cursed loudly as he scooped her up and laid her on their bed. He covered her warmly and kissed her forehead, then went back out into the main room, where the blood stained the floor like an obscene mural.

Everything went out of his mind except the look of terror on the face of the only woman he had ever truly loved as he looked at the knife gleaming on the floor. He picked it up and left the house, murder in his eyes.

He hunted them down easily, found them at their camp. He listened to their conversation and heard the name Van Helsing. Van Helsing had notified them that Count Dracula, the monster who had killed their cousin and sister, respectively, was living in the great mansion. Van Helsing had also told them that the "monster" had stolen a young woman and taken her to its lair.

It was over before they had time to scream. Almost tidy, like the last time he had hunted as a vampire. When had that been? He could not remember, and did not prefer to.

He returned to the house and found his wife asleep, but there were tears still wet on her cheeks. Dracula smoothed her hair gently and got into bed beside her, still wearing his outdoor clothes. When she awakened, she found herself lying in the protective circle of his arms, and drifted back to sleep against him, smiling and realizing that she must have imagined the odd flip-flop motion that the baby had made a few hours ago.

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So...muhahaha what do you think? (grins) 

Oh and I wrote another story, it's called _Murdered 1462_ and it's the story of Dracula's death, check it out!


	8. Bloodlust

I have returned! Lol I was in Boston for 5 days so no time to write...so anyway this is where the story really takes off in my opinion, I will update in a few days but until then read and review!

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In his troubled dreams, Dracula felt that there was a heart beating loudly. It was irritating, yet a lovely sound. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. He felt…happy, blissful. He had found something for which he had searched for a long, long time, and it had come to him at last. Blood. He wanted it, the beautiful red flowing darkness of it. The heartbeat got louder and louder until Dracula awoke, sweating. He looked down at his bride, who was intertwined in his arms and he in hers. Her hair was swept away from her neck, and he could see her pulse throbbing faintly below her ear.

He had a strange desire, almost a compulsion, to kiss her. He reached for her and kissed her lips softly, but almost immediately moved down to her neck, setting his mouth against the soft skin and moving his lips over the warmth to the place where her pulse throbbed steadily, putting his tongue against her skin and licking her neck. Kissing it again. Dracula could not get close enough to her neck. It was so beautiful, so…so delicious.

Suddenly realizing what was happening, he sat bolt upright, horrorstruck. It couldn't be.

Tatiana shifted in her sleep, smiling. Dracula carefully untangled her arms and covered her warmly, not daring to look at her neck. Then he tiptoed out of the bedroom and ran out into the nearby forest to a favorite clearing of theirs.

He cried out in agony when he put his hand over his heart and did not feel any beat. Summoning the hellbeast that had resided in him for over two hundred years, he fell to his knees as the wings exploded from his back and he felt his whole body expand into the grotesque form of a winged monster.

"Oh, God Almighty, what have You done!" he screamed, looking up into the night sky where the stars glittered coldly.

There was no reply from the heavens. Dracula shuddered and got to his feet as the bloodlust came upon him. He had forgotten how horrible it felt to desire—no, crave—the blood of a fellow human being. When it passed, he raised haunted eyes to the sky. "God, why? How have I broken our covenant?"

His face went rigid with sudden, horrible understanding. "Surely you do not consider those two men…Lord, I was protecting my wife! They would have come back and killed her, and our child! Surely, God, you must understand!" He fell to his knees, this time from overwhelming grief and pain. "I cannot live without her, God! I cannot be immortal, please, you MUST understand, God, have mercy upon me! I cannot harm her, I cannot make her of my kind, nor our child, but it is impossible that I live without her!"

"You have seen that I am not all evil, God, I have tried, oh so very hard, to do Thy Will throughout our covenant, I have helped others, I have not harmed anyone! Be the forgiving One that you are said to be, Lord! I did not do it but to save Tatiana and the child! Have You no mercy?"

_I have mercy. You shall keep your emotions, Vladislaus Dracula, until Tatiana and your child have lived out their lives, so that you shall never allow harm to come to them. Then, if you wish them, you shall keep your emotions, but it will be painful. _

"I…but…" Dracula looked up into what was, for him, an unfeeling night sky. "Is there no forgiveness?"

_Your sins are too many, Vladislaus. I cannot forgive them._

"No, Lucifer, you cannot. I know who you are." Dracula looked up into the sky, his voice suddenly resuming all its old power and cunning. "Only you would deny what is recorded in God's Word."

Lucifer laughed, and the sky rang with the cold, brittle sound. _My son, you ARE clever. _Dracula clenched his teeth, imagining Satan sitting—or whatever it was that Satan did—with a grin on the human version of his face.

"I made a pact with God!"

_No, you did not. I am your god now, Vladislaus Dracula._

"But God exists! And He is all-powerful!"

_And I own your soul. Do not toy with me, Dracula. You cannot win. However, just for the fun of it—you _must_ know by now that mercy is laughable to me—I will let you keep your emotions. To see how you…react to the next few months._

"What?"

The brittle laughter came again. _You will see in time._

Something vanished from the sky, and the stars became bright and soft again, as they were supposed to be. Vladislaus Dracula looked to them with a haggard face and grief-filled eyes and whispered, "Lord God, Thou who helpst the sparrow, abandon not Thy servant in his time of greatest need."

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Review! (puppy eyes) 


	9. Revealed

So...never mind, I won't say anything, I'll just let you read and see what happens.Thanks for all the great reviews!

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Tatiana rested all the time now; it was very close to her due date and she, being a first-time mother, thought that labor was best happening as late as possibly in the pregnancy. Dracula smiled and let her do what she wanted. 

He had hid his true self—his vampire self—from her ever since the night that he had nearly bit her and had begged God (and then the Devil) for mercy. Every week he went to feed, much more than his usual schedule, for he did not want to ever feel bloodlust for his wife (or their child) again. Tatiana was, of course, a little concerned that her husband never wanted to eat with her anymore, but he brushed it off, claiming that he had "business" to attend to in the evenings (after all, he _wa_snobility)and assured her that he took food from the kitchens whenever he was hungry.

One night, while Dracula was feeding, he was interrupted by the village bell. It was clanging "fire" loudly and people were rushing everywhere as he finished his meal; he left the victim partially covered behind a building and ran, hoping that no one would notice the body for several days.

However, Dracula had forgotten two things: his fangs left very noticeable marks, and Van Helsing was still in the area. The next day, his manservant came into his room, where Tatiana was still asleep, bearing the news that a Mr. Van Helsing and a Lord Valerious wanted to have a word with him. And with his wife, the manservant added somewhat nervously.

Dracula knew what was going to happen, although he didn't want to think about it. There was, of course, the slim chance that Tatiana would not believe any of it nor question anything, in her state; this was very doubtful, however, as she was a very curious, intelligent woman. He said, "Tell the _gentlemen_ that my wife and I will be with them in a few minutes."

"Very good, sir."

When the man left, Dracula sat down and buried his face in his hands. _God has abandoned me, and the puppet master is pulling all my strings at once. _He sat thus for nearly a full minute before smiling sadly and taking his bride's hand, stroking it lightly until she opened her eyes, smiling sleepily. "Good morning, dearest," she said softly.

He leaned over and kissed her, then said, "Two men are here to see us, my darling. We must…entertain them for some time."

Tatiana frowned and sat up with some difficulty. "Why? What has happened?"

Her husband shook his head. "Nothing has happened, my lovely Tatiana, but they expect that the mistress of the house be present as well."

"Tell them I'm sick, I'm not disposed, anything." Tatiana took his face in her hands. "You'll know what to do," she said, and kissed him with a feather-light brush of her lips against his.

Dracula smiled at her, and, inwardly rejoicing at her decision not to see them, went out to the sitting room. "So, gentlemen," he said cordially, though not without a small dash of sarcasm, "we meet again. Is there something in which I might assist you?"

Van Helsing—how Dracula hated the sight of that man!—smirked at him. "Where is the lovely Countess Dracula?"

"She is disinclined to appear today," Dracula said smoothly. "Would either of you care for a drink? I have excellent brandy." He fetched a decanter from a small cupboard and set it on the table.

"No, thank you," replied both.

Van Helsing stood. "I'm afraid that Countess Dracula will have to become inclined rather quickly, Vladislaus."

"Do not use that name, Gabriel." The warning in his eyes was clear.

Van Helsing smiled, tilted his head in apology. "My mistake, Dracula. As I said, your lovely wife must be present." He dropped all pretense of courtesy, and stared at Dracula with flint-hard eyes. "NOW."

Tatiana opened the door, having decided to get up on her own. "Good day, gentlemen." She curtsied as well as she could in her maternity gown.

Van Helsing sat back down and managed a bow of the head to the pregnant woman. Valerious was staring at her, his chin in his hand. "Dear God," was all he managed.

"Gabriel, Valerious, my wife, Tatiana Dracula. Now, what is this urgent business that you must have come so very far to discuss with me—us?"

Van Helsing frowned, then grinned. "Very well, Dracula." He leaned forward across the table. "An older man was found this morning in the alley. He was dead. On his neck were two small marks that you may very well recognize, Count. He had been drained of his blood."

Tatiana was wide awake now. "How awful! But sir, why should my husband recognize these marks? What were they?"

Valerious cleared his throat gruffly. "They were bite marks, Countess, fang marks. The marks of a vampire."

"I…I don't understand."

Dracula sat very stiffly as Van Helsing leaned toward her and said softly, "Your husband, Countess, is a vampire."

"What! That is not possible!"

"Have you heard nothing of the strange disappearances in the village? Every week, another person goes missing. If they are found at all, they have the marks on their necks. Your husband is a vampire. He has been dead for over two hundred years."

Tatiana stared at him, then at her husband, who had been sitting perfectly still the whole time and had neither agreed with nor protested any of the statements. "Who are you, exactly? How could you know something like that?" She realized that she hadn't seen Vladislaus eat solid food for a few days—weeks, really. Then what was he eating?

"I killed him. 1462, Romania, I killed Vladislaus Dracula, son of Lord Valerious and his wife Anna. I am immortal, the Left Hand of God, the angel Gabriel."

_Anna_. Tatiana remembered suddenly that Vladislaus had wanted to name their child Eleanor Anna, after her mother and his. "Vladislaus?" She turned to him, disbelieving, wanting him to tell her that they were liars and frauds. He remained silent, keeping his eyes, which were filled with an unbelievable pain, fixed on a spot on the opposite side of the table.

She didn't know if the "angel Gabriel, the Left Hand of God" part was true, but she did recall having heard of the great Van Helsing when she was a very small girl, and she knew instinctively that this was the same man. He only looked to be around 35 or so; he must be immortal, for he could not have been a famous monster hunter at 15 years of age. Yet she could not believe, would not believe, that the wonderful man she had married was a vampire. "Prove it to me," she said flatly.

"Very well," Van Helsing said. "Have you mirrors in this lovely home?"

"Yes, of course we do," Tatiana said, very surprised. "In fact, there's a fine one right there." She gestured off to her right but looked at Van Helsing.

"And you have noticed your husband's reflection in it before?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I? That would be odd if my husband didn't have a reflec…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced at the mirror and her eyes found the blank spot where Dracula should have been. She gasped. "Oh, my God!"

"He had a reflection before?" Van Helsing frowned. "Strange…"

Valerious shrugged. "One more thing, Countess. Vampires do not have heartbeats."

He looked at her significantly, and she reluctantly stood up, going to her husband and placing her hand on his chest. A few moments later, her face went ashen. "Oh, God, what have I done?" She stared at Dracula. "That night—in the garden—you were going to…to…" She shuddered.

"Countess, there is one more thing. We can take you from here"—Dracula started at that—"but your…child…carries the Devil's blood in its veins, for Dracula is the son of the Devil. Perhaps we could…" Valerious did not get any farther, for Tatiana had sunk back into her chair in a faint.

Finally, Dracula acted. "OUT!" he roared, jumping to his feet. Valerious was obviously not one of the bravest of his clan, for he scuttled out of the house. Van Helsing, however, sauntered to the door and turned at the last moment to face his enemy. "We'll finish this one day, you and I, Count. One day, you will pay for your crimes." He smiled, turned, and left.

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So now we have met Van Helsing himself...not like you expected, is he? lol but I do think that he would have acted like that ("...details from your sordid past...") in that situation. You'll find out later what I'm talking about. RR:) 


	10. Forever

K I'm back...sorry I haven't posted in a while.

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Dracula carried his wife into their room as he had so often done, but now he was afraid of her waking. She did, however, and her eyes were filled with terror as she looked at him. He tried to take her hand, but she jerked it away. "Begone, monster!" she gasped. 

Dracula finally snapped. "I am no monster!" he roared. "I, who have been called the son of the Devil, made a covenant with God, or so I thought, so that I could be mortal and live—and die—with you. I love you, and our child. You do not know what my very existence was before I met you, Tatiana! You do not know what it does to me now, to feed more often than my fair share (here Tatiana winced) that I may never desire nor take your blood or the blood of our baby!"

His bride stared at him, then burst into tears that rapidly turned into hysterical sobs. Suddenly, she gasped as a sharp pain tore through her, and the front of her gown quickly turned red as it was soaked with blood. "This is…not right…" she gasped out. "The baby! Something…flip-flopped…I felt it the night…with the knife…"

The very night he had broken the covenant. Dracula was overcome with a horrifying thought. What if, in breaking the covenant, Lucifer had also…no, he must not think that way.

He helped her through her labor, as there was no time to send for a midwife and the story would have spread throughout the town by now anyway. There was so much blood that the sheets were soaked, but Dracula felt nothing but fear for his wife.

_Van Helsing_, he realized. _Gabriel was sent to destroy me. He could not, so he seeks now to kill my 'evil' child, and, if necessary, my wife. That does not seem like his Knights of the Holy Order…_He turned his attention back to his wife, who was now screaming from the pain. She had been in labor for over four hours.

A few minutes more, and Tatiana delivered her baby. Dracula knew little of these things, but he thought that four hours seemed rather short compared to the horror stories he had heard of 36-hour, 48-hour, and longer labors. He found out why as soon as he looked closely at his tiny daughter.

She was dead.

_No. No no no. You cannot do this to me, Lucifer. I have been your servant, even against my will. _He felt oddly calm. Deadly calm.

_Did you really expect the child of an Undead to be born alive? I would pity you, Vladislaus, were it in me to pity._

_Can I bring her to life?_

_No. What is dead is dead. Unfortunately for me, I do not have her soul, which I suppose would comfort you, except that…well, you'll never get to meet her, now will you? Since your eternities will be spent in entirely different places, I'd imagine._

_Lucifer!_

"Vladislaus?" Tatiana asked weakly. Dracula looked up at her. She did not need a response to decipher the meaning in his eyes. "Let me see her. Let me see Eleanor Anna."

Dracula never learned how she knew the baby was a girl. He handed the infant to his wife, and she broke into a low moan at the sight of her daughter's little face. The eyes, thankfully, were closed enough that she looked to be asleep, but Tatiana examined them anyway. "She has your eyes," she announced in a flat, dead voice. She closed her own eyes and, clutching her stillborn child in her arms, turned to the wall.

"Tatiana," Dracula said softly. "Listen to me. I love you. I could have made you a vampire long ago and forced you to live forever with me, in bondage to me. Instead, I gave up my own immortality." He saw her turn unwillingly back to him, and went on. "I do not know what else to do but to tell you that. My darling, I cannot bring our child back from the dead, but know that her soul is safe with the God who has abandoned me." There was no reply, and he looked down into her eyes. "Tatiana?" They were going glassy, and she was starting to shake. She had lost so much blood, he realized. _I should have stopped the blood! It is my life, my very existence, and I did not recognize how much…_He gripped her shoulders. "Tatiana! Wake up!"

It was obvious that she was dying. "No! Please! Tatiana! I love you! I can't…live without you." He knelt by her bedside and took her hand, tears running down his face. Then he raised his eyes to Heaven and cried out, "God, what has she done that she deserves this horror?"

As he had when the covenant was broken, he said softly, to the depths of his being, "You did not abandon the sparrow. Abandon me not."

Tatiana opened her eyes and said, "You could have made me a vampire?" in a choked voice. Dracula's face lit up. One bite, and she would be saved, live with him forever, never die, always young and beautiful. He bent over her, but something held him back, and he looked down into her face.

It was then, in that moment of truth, that God helped his servant. "No," Dracula said slowly. "I cannot harm you even that much, and to become as I is to lose your soul. I WILL NOT give you over to the Creature who made me."

Tatiana opened her beautiful green eyes, the same eyes that had stunned him the first time he had seen her, for the last time. "God forgives all, my husband, as do I," she whispered. She choked, and he saw that she was so pale that her face matched the unstained pillow, as if all her blood had been drained from her body. She lifted a hand, touched his cheek, and touched her daughter's bluish body. "Eleanor Anna Dracula." Tatiana looked up into Dracula's eyes. "Bury her, my love, my husband."

She received his kiss on bloodless lips. "I love you, now and forever," she whispered, looking into his eyes and into what he imagined was his soul. Then her expression went blank. "Who…who are you?" she asked, as she had that night in the garden.

When her hand went limp in his, Dracula looked down at it and said, in a broken voice, "Tatiana. How fitting…that it should be so…beautiful."

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Okay...I haven't been getting many reviews lately, except from those of you who do so just about every chapter...you know who you are, and thanks guys:) 

So all my faithful reviewers and hopefully anyone who finds this story interesting/whatever, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEread and review :)

OR I WON'T POST WHAT HAPPENS NEXT...(evil laughter)...and I mean it...


	11. Van Helsing

Okay so I got a few reviews (thanks guys!) so I'm posting 2 chapters at once since they go together really well

I'm so glad you like it:)

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-Twenty years later-

Katja smiled down at her young son and daughter as they lay in their beds by the warm fire. It was very cold on autumn nights in Romania, and she had tucked them in warmly, expecting them to go to sleep quickly. She hadn't counted on their appetite for stories so close to All Hallows Eve, and last night had nearly exhausted her repertoire, though she was a gifted storyteller.

"Mama, tell about the werewolf," Hans demanded, brown eyes shining. "No, we heard that one already, Mama. Tell us about the…the…" Little Sonja stopped, dumbfounded. For the first time in her life, she could not think of a single story.

"Tell us the scariest story your Mama ever told you," Hans interrupted, immensely pleased with herself. He reached over and tweaked his sister's braid.

"Hey! Mamaaaa!"

"Shhh, Sonja. Hans, do not do that again." She sat and stared into the fire. "All right. One more story."

"This happened a long time ago, when I was a girl…"

Katja told them about the beautiful mansion at the edge of the forest, so large that it was almost a castle. One afternoon, walking close to its walls, she heard sounds like muffled sobs coming from within, followed by a short silence, then what sounded like a roar.

She had fallen to the ground in paralyzed terror as the giant window above her shattered and a huge winged creature the color of blood came tearing out of the mansion, uttering the most inhuman shrieks she could ever imagine. Their memory still sent tingles down her back.

The creature landed at the edge of the forest, apparently unaware of her presence, and shrank before her horrified eyes into a very handsome man with a long, dark ponytail. He _would_ have been handsome, anyway, had his face not been so contorted with grief. He sank to his knees and sobbed, raising his face to the sky and cursing in such terms that Katja had clapped her hands over her ears.

In a few minutes, he seemed to collect himself, but his eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing, and in them was a deadly fury. He walked straight past her—again—to the wall, walked _up_ the wall (she got a look of disbelief from Hans at this), and entered the broken window, which was at least 12 feet above the ground.

The man—or beast, whatever he was—emerged the same way, carrying in his arms something that chilled Katja: a dead woman and a long bundle whose contents she did not want to guess. Had he murdered the woman? She looked unnaturally pale, even for one dead, and Katja saw that her gowns were stained with blood.

The man walked straight ahead until he reached the fringes of the forest. He paused for a moment, then continued into its depths. Katja, for what reason she could not fathom, followed silently.

Katja followed him for what seemed like hours, not understanding why he did not resume his…other…form—it would be much simpler to fly with the woman in his arms.

He came at last to the section of alpine meadow that bordered the great ravine. In the distance was a grand castle; it looked abandoned—lost, almost. He continued across the meadow, still carrying his burden, until he came to a spot where the downward slope was much more gradual. He laid the woman down carefully and unwound the bundle to reveal a shovel and a much smaller bundle. Taking up the shovel, he began to dig. If Katja hadn't seen his other "side", she would have been surprised at his strength.

The grave was finished within a half an hour. Katja was shocked to find that she had been here this long. She almost got up to leave, but something held her in place. She watched in fascinated horror as he began to unwind the small bundle, and felt her heart break as a tiny infant's face was revealed.

The man stared down into the infant's face, lips moving silently in what seemed to be a prayer. Then, in an accent she couldn't quite place, he said softly, "Sleep well, my little Eleanor. Rest in eternal peace." His voice broke on the last word, and he pressed his lips to the baby's forehead before he covered her face again and laid her in the woman's arms, fastening the bundle's ends around the latter's neck.

He looked down at them for a moment, then picked up the woman, baby and all, and held her against him for what seemed like an eternity. He kissed her pale lips one last time and held her head against his shoulder, tears streaming from tightly shut eyes, then took out a knife. For a heart-stopping moment, Katja thought he was going to stab himself and fall into the grave with his wife and child. She forgot about the monster, and was about to run to him when he clipped a lock of the woman's hair and put it carefully into his pocket along with the knife.

He lowered the woman and the infant into the grave, then slowly, hand trembling, picked up a clod of dirt and dropped it in, shuddering at the muffled thud. Mechanically, like some kind of terrible machine, he picked up more and more dirt and eventually used the shovel to fill in the grave, smoothing it over when he had finished.

Katja watched as the man wrenched a flat grayish stone free of the hillside and carried it—he made it look much lighter than it must have been—to the grave. Careful not to step on the freshly-turned soil, he set it at the head of the grave. Then he took out the knife and, with inhuman strength, he carved some message into the solid stone until at last the blade snapped and he hurled it into the chasm before kneeling and bowing his head as sobs tore through him. Katja could not move. Half of her wanted to leave and never see this place again, and the other half wanted to run to him and put her arms around him—he was no older than Papa, who told her stories in the evenings.

Instead, Katja watched, tears streaming from her blue eyes, as the man's back straightened at last and the sobs ceased. He stood, and his dark ponytail swung to the side as he wiped his eyes with a motion that was almost violent, turning to look in her direction—if he saw her, he didn't show it—with eyes that terrified her, dark, soulless eyes in which the last spark of emotion had died forever.

"I ran and ran and…" The older Katja looked down at her sleeping children, smiling sadly. Hans had faded into sleep soon after the monster failed to kill anyone, and Sonja was too young to comprehend what her mother was talking about. She finished the story slowly, softly, to herself.

"I tried to stay away, but one day I just had to go, I had to see. I sensed that the man was no longer there, and I wanted to see the grave just once. I ran all the way there.

"When I got there, the headstone looked the same, but the grave looked older, almost as if it itself were burdened by a terrible grief. I could sense it in the air. I went and stood by the grave, and read the headstone. It said, 'Countess Tatiana Dracula. Beloved wife of Count Vladislaus Dracula. May she ever rest in peace.' There was a horizontal line, and below it, 'Eleanor Anna Dracula. God bless and keep her.' Another line, then, in curved, almost jagged, script, as if the man—Count Vladislaus Dracula?—were trying to make the last part beautiful for his wife's sake, a single sentence: 'My heart dies with them.'

She sighed, remembering. "I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up into the face of yet another handsome man. He was wearing odd, dark clothing and a wide hat, but I sensed no danger from him, more a quiet purpose. 'Whose grave is this?' he asked quietly.

"I did not reply at first, but finally said, 'The man's wife and child. Who are you?'

" 'Gabriel Van Helsing.' He smiled, but I did not return the smile. 'Which man?'

"I frowned. 'The dark-haired man with the ponytail. He turns into a monster.' I hoped he would not ask further. I did not want to repeat what I had seen.

"His face lit up and he said, 'God be praised! The progeny has been destroyed!'

"I wasn't sure what progeny was, and was horrified when he told me that it meant offspring, children. The baby I had seen. 'That was no baby,' he told me. 'It was a vampire-child, a foul creature of the night.' 'It was a baby!' I insisted. 'Her name was Eleanor.'

"Gabriel Van Helsing did not seem to hear me, or pretended not to, anyway. He made the sign of the cross and uttered some words in Latin, then turned to leave. I could see that in his heart he was still praising God for such a terrible thing. 'Do you not care that his wife and child died?' I shouted, though I was only eleven and yelling at adults was considered grounds for whipping.

"He turned back toward me. 'Innocents die,' he said, and in his eyes I could see true regret. Then the look vanished, and he said somewhat harshly, 'but HE would not have cared. The woman was nothing to him, my dear girl. He desires only to populate the earth with his…kind.' He turned and strode away.

"'He cried,' I said to Mr. Van Helsing's retreating back. 'Did you know that? He knelt by the grave and wept into his hands.'

"Mr. Van Helsing stopped; his back stiffened and his head came up a fraction. But he did not turn around, and after a moment continued walking away. I turned and looked at the grave, at the wilted, lovingly placed irises I had not noticed until now."

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So what do you think- does VH have a heart or not?

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	12. My angel

(dot dot dot)

Sorry; I always feel the need to write _something_ here...

_

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_

_I know you'd never seen such eyes_

_The darkness and unspeakable night_

_But still you loved me for all time_

_My angel_

_-_

_Unspeakable suffering_

_Locked up inside and ne'er relieved_

_Because you were the world to me_

_My angel_

_-_

_To be without you for__ever_

_Is a long, long time_

_You're safe now from the darkness_

_But I paid the price_

_Save me from this misery_

_You said that you would love me_

_For eternity,_

_Return to me_

_I'll love you to forever and beyond_

_But show me that you hear me_

_-_

_I do not live but slowly cry_

_My life away, the night you died_

_You took the last shred of my light,_

_My angel_

_-_

_I feel, though my heart is gone_

_Because my love for you lives on_

_You are the reason I survive,_

_My angel_

_-_

_To be without you forever_

_Is a long, long time_

_You're safe now from the darkness_

_But I paid the price_

_Save me from this misery_

_You said that you would love me_

_For eternity,_

_Return to me_

_I'll love you to forever and beyond_

_But show me that you hear me_

_-_

_So when the sea lies gray and dead_

_At the end of time, on my deathbed_

_I'll come to you and take you home,_

_My angel_

_-_

_I'll come to you and take you home,_

_My angel_

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(sobs) so sad! 


	13. Dreams

Thanks everyone for your awesome reviews! And **Ciea**, I hope you keep reading:D I love you guys!

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"Do you remember how we met, my lord?" 

The voice slid silkily into Dracula's consciousness. He smiled his devil's smile and turned quickly, pinning Verona down on her bed. "But that was so long ago, my bride."

Verona smiled up at him through a curtain of dark hair. Like a cat toying with a mouse, he thought, and felt a certain uneasiness. Verona, unlike Aleera, was usually quite straightforward in her requests. "Is there something you desire, my bride?"

"Only your company, my lord."

Something was still not right. He smiled again, but this time she did not return the smile. "Tell me how we met, Vladislaus."

Ah. She was testing him, he realized. Making sure that he still valued her above his other two brides; that, beautiful as they were, she was still his queen. He hoped that was it, anyway.

Two could play at this game, and he was most certainly going to win.

"Let me see." He tapped his chin and looked into her eyes. "I was walking in the city, late at night, looking for my next…meal. Someone darted out of a dimly-lit building in front of me, and I saw that it was a young woman. She was chased by a burly drunk, who was yelling something about how he had 'paid and wasn't going to take no for an answer, and that time limits didn't apply.'" He grinned. "You, my dear, turned on him and sent a stiletto right through him. You didn't even see me, but I saw you, my bride; I saw your raw beauty and your violent grace as you took the stiletto and re-sheathed it. I saw my love. Then you looked up into my eyes…"

Verona laughed flatly. "My lord, you describe…Marishka." She sniffed. "A common…what do you call them?...Lady of the Night. I suppose you just had to make her title real."

Dracula gave her a look of mock concern. "Not the right bride? Ah, well, then perhaps it was when I was flying above the mountains and an avalanche below me buried a Gypsy encampment. Yes, my bride, don't you remember? How I flew down and saw you, your lovely face the only part of you above the snow? Don't you remember how I pulled you out and held you because your heart was the only one beating in the entire snow-entombed camp? How I bent down and kissed your sorrow away, like this?"

Verona's eyes were narrowed even as he kissed her. "Aleera. Do you truly not remember _me_, my Lord Dracula? Or am I—how shall I put it—no longer in your favor?"

Dracula dropped all pretense of memory loss. "You are always in my favor. Do you not remember how I came to your house in Budapest, where you were mourning for your mother? How I told you that I had…known…her cousin? How I held you in my arms and told you that everything would be all right, that death could be friendly, that I would never abandon you?"

Verona smiled her cat's smile. "I remember, my lord." She pushed him over so that he was lying back on the bed and she was kneeling over him, one hand on either side of his shoulders, her long, dark hair brushing his face. "My lord, I do have one question. A simple thing, and you will, I fear, think me silly."

"Ask, my queen."

She leaned forward until her mouth brushed his ear. "Who," she breathed, "is this Tatiana you speak of in your sleep?"

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Please, please, PLEASE get the "cousin" thing I'm talking about! (crosses fingers that audience will have- riiiight- remembered the mention of Verona in the 2nd chapter...) lol R and R! 


	14. Realization

Sorry guys...:D...but you'll have to imagine Dracula's response on your own (_holds up shield_...Stay back! I'm warning you...) (BOTR) Thanks for all the awesome reviews anyway! And I promise I WILL update my other story, Murdered 1462, soon! (ahem)

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"_Is this your silver stake?…You are the great Van Helsing!…from Tibet to Istanbul…_" _Swirling images of darkness; of the Bride, Marishka, swaying back and forth like a cat about to pounce; of horses jumping across a bottomless ravine. _

"_We have such…history, you and I, Gabriel_." _His eyes were dark with barely-concealed rage, and worse than rage—a dark, bitter, almost helpless fury that spoke of centuries of pain. His face was rigid; he stared at Van Helsing contemptuously, as if eyeing a particularly disgusting _something _on the floor. Looking into his eyes was like gazing into an endless abyss. _

_He moved toward Van Helsing, and the clock began to strike twelve. One…two…the moon was still covered as the hellbeast rushed toward him…he could not run, he could not change…_

Van Helsing woke with a start, gasping. He realized that he must have cried out in his sleep, for the door opened and a rather timid young woman poked her head in. "Are you all right, Mr. Van Helsing?" she asked.

"Wha-? Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine. Too much…too much ale last night, I suppose."

She giggled. "It does that to a man. Will you be needin' anything?"

"No, thank you." With a somewhat disappointed look, she smiled and closed the door softly, leaving Van Helsing alone with his thoughts.

How true that dream had been! Of course, the last part had been purely nightmare, but the rest…He shivered. The rest had been almost more nightmarish, for Van Helsing could not comprehend the depth of the hate he had seen in Dracula's eyes. It was not merely an effect of the dream; if anything, the dream had diminished what Van Helsing remembered.

He suspected, of course, that some of it had been attributable to his role in Dracula's death. However, that particular event had granted Dracula his immense power and his immortality. Even he would be unlikely to hold a grudge for 400 years for THAT reason. No; he had been trying to remind Van Helsing of something, he was sure of it.

And the children, the Undead…until the end, Dracula had continually, almost madly, tried to bring his children to life, even after two of his brides had been destroyed. He had even given up on Anna, who had been his target since her birth, in his quest for life.

Shaking his head at the madness of it all, Van Helsing got out of bed and put on his riding clothes. He needed to eat, and then he would go up into the hills and take a look around. The forest was beautiful here in the mornings, with the mist rising from the streams and the dead leaves from last autumn floating in little eddies until they reached the rivers and ran all the way to the sea. The sea, where his Anna would rest forever. He smiled sadly at the thought.

The morning light cast golden bars over the blue-and-white tablecloth and illuminated the golden-brown of the chairs when Van Helsing entered the dining room of the small inn. "Good morning," he said cordially toa young couple sitting at one of the tables with their baby. They smiled in reply, and the mother laughed as the baby gurgled loudly.

The scene jarred Van Helsing's memory—not a small feat—but he wasn't sure just what it was that he was supposed to be remembering. Sighing, he sat down at the table. From here, he could see through the large glass doors into the picturesque gardens. The flowers were beautiful in the morning sunshine. Now that he thought about it, there were flowers on the table, in a white decorative mug. Pale purple irises whose petals were almost translucent in the golden light.

Van Helsing almost fell out of his chair as the truth hit him like a stake through the heart.

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Okay, I won't update until I get at least 5 reviews! And yes, I WILL be counting:D (evil grin) So REVIEW! 


	15. Devil's deception

Thanks for the great reviews, guys! I wish I could continue this story...sob...but the next chapter will be the last one...(well I'm adding an author note thing as well). Maybe I can write a sequel...?...

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"Van Helsing, have you gone mad?" Carl nearly tripped over his own feet trying to keep up with his friend. "That's impossible! How could you have made a deal with the Devil?"

The other continued to stride at a reckless pace through the streets of Budapest, Carl trying to avoid being hit by the carts careening dangerously through the narrow spaces. "First of all," Van Helsing said, not looking at the friar, "I did not make a deal with the Devil. I listened to him, thinking it was God's words I was hearing: Lucifer is very clever, as you know." Both he and Carl crossed themselves, Van Helsing out of habit, Carl out of something more akin to fear.

"But why is it so important? What did you do on Lucifer's"—Carl crossed himself again—"command that was such an abomination?"

They had reached the stables where their mounts were being cleaned up in preparation for the return to the Vatican. Gabriel called out to a groom and, handing him several coins, told him that he would receive much more if he would pack their bags with enough food for several days and get their horses ready immediately.

While they waited, the two friends sat on a nearby knoll, out of earshot of the grooms and other stable workers. Van Helsing looked directly at Carl. "I murdered a woman and her unborn child."

Carl gasped. "Wha-! Why? What happened?"

Gabriel put his face in his hands. "God—I mean, Lucifer—told me that the child was the progeny of one whom we know very well: Dracula. And indeed it was."

The friar frowned at him. "I hate to sound unfeeling, Van Helsing, but isn't it a good thing that the…progeny…did not survive?"

"Not when…not when the father was mortal."

Carl stared. "What do you mean? Dracula was never mortal, except of course when he was alive, but that's a different matter entirely…" He babbled on in his nervousness, and Van Helsing held up a hand.

"No, Carl. My memory has returned to me, at least part of it, and the records of the Vatican tell the rest…I remember that, several centuries ago, there was a wedding in Transylvania that was, shall we say, _unique_, being outdoors instead of in a church. It was doubly odd in that the bride and groom were both nobility: a lord's daughter and a count. One…Count Dracula, I believe. Although news reached the Vatican of this almost-heretical event, I thought nothing of the name of the groom until nearly a year and a half later, when I was commanded by whom I thought was God to destroy the offspring of the monster Dracula, whom I had killed long ago. Later, after the deed was done, Lucifer returned and gloated, telling me that Dracula had made a pact with "God": in exchange for mortality and emotions, he would never kill another living soul save in defense. I had no memory of this until this morning."

Carl nodded slowly, turning the facts over in his head. "So Dracula was really mortal, then?"

"Until he broke the covenant. He made that pact so that he could live and die with the woman he loved, Carl." Van Helsing's voice grew rough, and he coughed as if his throat bothered him. "I destroyed him. I not only killed him, I destroyed every last shred of his soul." He related how he had sent three men to kill the woman and the child, and Dracula if possible, and how Dracula, naturally, had hunted them down and killed them with their own weapon, a poisoned blade. Later, several weeks to be precise, how he, Van Helsing, had denounced Dracula as a vampire in front of his wife; how she had, after proving it to herself, gone into early labor and died giving birth to a stillborn child. How a young blond girl had told him that she had watched "the dark-haired man with the ponytail" weeping by the side of the grave.

By the time he finished, Carl was staring at him with something akin to fascinated horror. "My God, Van Helsing," was all he could say.

Gabriel turned away, holding his head in his shaking hands. "When Anna died…when we burned her…I heard God say, 'This, my son, is why Anna was taken', and I saw a vision of the woman's gravestone. I didn't know what it meant…"

"I suppose…" Carl cleared his throat. "I suppose that the Devil realized that Dracula was going to keep his end of the bargain and not kill anyone, thus ensuring that his soul no longer belonged to Lucifer. I imagine Lucifer might have used any means possible to take one of his favorite servants back again, as well as gain two other potentially powerful ones…"

Van Helsing had not moved. Carl put a hand on his shoulder. "God has exacted his price, and it was a small one, for Anna is with her family at last. You must try to forgive yourself. Remember that I am your friend, Van Helsing."

Gabriel looked up at him incredulously. "Why? I am not worthy of friendship, Carl. I have destroyed a man's soul thrice—by murder, killing his family, and finally by ending his undead existence. I am not fit to walk this earth."

Carl shook his head. "Look at me." He waited until Gabriel was looking directly at him before he said, "All of us are sinners. By killing Dracula and, much later, by ending his undead life, you did your job. The other…" He held out his hands face up in a kind of a shrug. "You are human enough to be deceived. You were doing what you believed in. Since the dawn of man you have rid the world of unspeakable evil, Van Helsing."

He looked at Gabriel expectantly. The other looked away for a moment, then, with sudden steadiness, turned back and said, "What must I do?"

"Well! I'm glad you asked. We are going back to Transylvania."

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You know the drill:D


	16. Eternity

Okay...I got ONE review...(grr) jk thanks Ciea!

But I couldn't stand it anymore, I had to post this...sob...LAST chapter...hides face

I have absolutely loved writing this, I just hope that it won't be "lost" in the rest of the VH fics (it gets pushed farther "back" as people update theirs)

And please check out my blog (it's on my biography, click on the "etherealfire" link at the top of the page), I need your help deciding what to write next! I love you guys!

etherealfire

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They stood in the ruins of Dracula's ice fortress. The ice had disappeared, revealing the location on top of a crag deep in the Transylvanian forests, surrounded by the desolate beauty of the Carpathians. The fortress was almost more impressive without all the ice; it was a hollow, dark shell with so little life in the way of rats and such that it was almost a part of the crag upon which it rested. 

Van Helsing no longer sensed evil in the castle, but could not seem to shake a slight chill regardless. It was more of a sense of accusation than anything else, and he wasn't sure if it was residual emotions—Dracula, his bride Aleera, and several of his creatures had died here, after all—or something else.

They made their way through the castle until at last they reached the laboratory where Dracula and Van Helsing had fought to the death—and where Anna had died, slain by the werewolf-Gabriel. No. He would not allow himself to think of that. Yet how could he not, with the same red velvet couch there in the corner—a bit tattered, but the same one on which she had lain just moments after midnight, staring sightlessly up at him before he took her in his arms and begged God to return her to him. A prayer that had been met in silence, for reasons that he had not understood until now.

"Van Helsing!" Carl's excited voice came from the other side of the room. "I found…him!"

"Where!" Gabriel strode over and found Carl pointing to a rather eerie sight—a neat pile of ashes heaped against the place where Dracula had died at last. _Shouldn't they have been blown away by now? _he thought. In the center of the pile was something odd. Van Helsing bent closer and saw something that made his heart stand still.

A single lock of hair, tawny golden auburn and of the most beautiful hue, lay in a soft, gently winding curl atop the pile of ash. Van Helsing showed it wordlessly to Carl, who nodded.

Van Helsing no longer felt a sense of evil, nor one of horror, as he carefully swept the ashes of his centuries-old enemy into a burial urn and placed the piece of hair on top before closing the lid. A breath seemed to fill the cavernous room, very briefly, and faded.

They saddled their horses and rode for hours until they reached the place that Van Helsing remembered so well. A path, well-worn yet cleverly hidden, trailed over the hillside.

They followed it to its end. The grave was the same as Van Helsing remembered it, small and worn and obviously a place of great grief and…love. Even Carl sensed it, and his eyes widened.

Van Helsing went to the headstone and read aloud the words that he had never bothered to even look at before: "Countess Tatiana Dracula. Beloved wife of Count Vladislaus Dracula. May she ever rest in peace…Eleanor Anna Dracula. God bless and keep her…My heart dies with them."

Reading the words aloud made the whole thing so real that Carl sat down for a moment, unable to bear it. Then he stood again and bravely handed the urn to Van Helsing.

Van Helsing opened it slowly, with the utmost care, and took a handful of ashes. Reciting a prayer aloud—no, not reciting, for he said it from the very depths of his being—he scattered the ashes slowly over the headstone and the grave, Carl reciting what he knew of the burial mass. When all the ashes were spent, Van Helsing took the lock of hair, shimmering in the sun, and held it before him. "Rest in peace, Tatiana Dracula. Rest in peace, Eleanor Anna Dracula. And rest in peace at last, Vladislaus Dracula. May the Lord have great mercy upon your souls. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, Amen."

"Amen," repeated Carl.

Van Helsing dropped the lock of hair.

It fluttered downward, gently, as if on tiny invisible thermals, and came to rest in the midst of a patch of wild irises, shining strands of auburn-gold floating on the petals like strands of gossamer light. One single hair slipped off its petal and floated languidly, flowingly, to the ground. There was no sound at all when it touched.

There was a great rush of wind, and Van Helsing and Carl stepped back from the graveside, startled. The air began to shimmer before them, just as the clouds had for Van Helsing, and two figures appeared. One was easily recognizable; the other was an exquisitely gorgeous woman the likes of whom Van Helsing had never seen, even—he had to admit—in Anna. She was wearing a deep-crimson, almost burgundy, ball gown, and the flowing skirt swirled around her as she danced with Dracula, the two of them laughing and smiling and looking deep into each other's eyes. They turned as one to face something that neither Carl nor Gabriel could see; curious, the two men watched as a little dark-haired girl who bore a slight resemblance to Anna came running out of the shimmering haze. She was scooped up into Dracula's arms and kissed lovingly on the forehead, and he half-waltzed with Tatiana while holding his daughter in the crook of his right arm.

They turned slowly to face their observers at last, and, to Van Helsing's utter amazement, both smiled at him. Dracula gave his archenemy the first genuine smile that Van Helsing had seen on his face in many centuries, and said softly, "Thank you, Gabriel." His child in his arms and his wife beside him at long last, Vladislaus Dracula turned and walked into eternity.

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Thanks for being a great audience/group/whatever! You guys rock. What should I write next? I have about a billion ideas...tell me at my blog! (it's on my bio, click on "etherealfire" at the top of the page) (yes I know I wrote this already, but sometimes people skip the author notes...looks guilty...um...)

There will be one more chapter in this story, it's a personal note thing that might be interesting to those of you who try to fit the stories into the movie.

Thanks! And please review/recommend/etc!

etherealfire


	17. Afterword

Here's a little blurb for my story, I'm tacking it onto the end so that you can check back in the movie and see the times when Dracula is (in my opinion) thinking about Tatiana and Eleanor Anna.

So anyway, enough about that; here are the little things I noticed while watching the movie. Read and enjoy! lol

etherealfire

Just so everyone knows, due to (a) the (obvious) fact that I wrote this fic and (b) the fact that I have tried to as-seamlessly-as-possible fit it into the plot and back story of the movie, I consider Tatiana a real character, someone who really existed; I consider this story to be truth (hey, it's a movie, so if we consider the movie true, why not this story?). Besides, while I was writing it, I felt like someone else was doing the writing; normally I am the world's _worst_ plot concocter. It ties up the loose ends and…yeah I'll stop talking/writing/whatever now. lol

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1. Of course, I could be wrong, but I wouldn't be surprised if Dracula was thinking about his wife while he was dancing with Anna (red gown like Tatiana's crimson one, similar ballroom, etc. and NO I did NOT get thecrimson gown from the movie, I just thought that it would be the best color for Tatiana at the time). 

2. Earlier in the movie, when Dracula straps Velkan to the laboratory table/stretcher, Velkan cries, "I may have failed to kill you, Count, but my sister will not!" Dracula just looks at him with this absolutely unfathomable expression on his face, a very dark look but layered with the emotion that vampires supposedly do not possess, and begins to dance with himself (or an invisible partner?), doing this little victory-dance/waltz thing. I don't know how to explain that scene, but after I reread this fic, that scene (in the movie) really touched me. Maybe it was the look on Dracula's face, I don't know. Watch and see! (And it couldn't have been "Sometimes, I can almost dance to the beat" because how can you waltz to a heartbeat:p )

3. If you haven't gotten a sense of it from the story, Dracula has this look of incredible hatred and contempt on his face when he says, "We have such…history, you and I, Gabriel." Right before Van Helsing shoves a cross in his face, Dracula asks him if Van Helsing would like him to "refresh your memory a little…perhaps a few details from your sordid past?" (I really hope that was the wording…)

4. The words, the voice, and, above all, the look on Dracula's face when he cries, "And beg the Devil that this time, they stay alive!"

5. "No! I feel no love! I feel nothing, no joy, nor pain, nor sorrow. I am…hollow. And I will live forever."

6. "All I want is life, Gabriel, life for my children." (sorry, I can't remember which scene this is from)

7. "I can tell the character of a man from the sound of his heartbeat"

8. "GIVE ME LIFE!"

8. "Hunt them down. Kill them both." (the look in his eyes says more than anything else)

9. And last, but certainly not least:

"But now that your work is, as you say, a triumph…of science…over _GOD_!"

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Yeah, I'll admit, I got REALLY into this story, but that's a good thing, isn't it:D You guys have been absolutely great. Don't forget me! lol 

etherealfire


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